


Nightfall

by sheiruki



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Corpses, Gen, Horror, Mild Gore, Suspense, surprisingly little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheiruki/pseuds/sheiruki
Summary: After another successful mission for the Vigilants of Stendarr, Eyvindr returns to the Hall of the Vigilant. What he finds there makes his blood run cold.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt contest over at Skyrim Amino about a month ago. Since one of the prompts was about the hero returning to the Hall of the Vigilant and I already had an OC who joined the Vigilants, I decided I'd give it a shot. Somehow I actually managed to come in second place. Therefore, I'm quite proud of this story.

One hard hit and a broken neck.

Eyvindr wiped the blood off his mace with the hem of his robe. Of course the cultist had been no match for him; for the last six months he had been trying to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his fellow vigilants, keeper Carcette, and his god, shirking no task and fearing no monster. This time, he would surely be praised again. The thought made Eyvindr smile.

 _Isn't it ironic how the god of mercy demands we show none to his enemies?_ , he thought and reached down to take a grimoire out of the cultist's death grip. It would have to be examined back at the Hall of the Vigilant.

 _At hom_ e, he thought and began his journey back through the frozen wasteland that was the Pale. Although the deep snow made walking difficult, the skies were clear and the afternoon sun offered at least a little bit of warmth. For hours, Eyvindr tracked through the snow, past hills and pines and the occasional ruined fortress. Never pausing, never slowing down. After all, he had a hearty stew and a hot hearth waiting for him. As the night began to fall, Eyvindr spotted a pillar of smoke rising into the crimson sky.

"Ah, so they've already started cooking," he mumbled. His stomach roared, his feet hurt and the straps of his backpack were beginning to cut into his shoulder. Oh, how glad he was to be almost home.

He continued his way through the pine forest surrounding the Hall of the Vigilant. It had grown darker. And with the darkness came the cold. Eyvindr shuddered and huddled himself into his cloak. Through the trees he could see a warm, flickering light in the distance, casting long shadows on the ground.

 _Fire?_ , Eyvindr thought and clutched his mace tighter and snuck past the trees. He had a bad feeling about this. When his home finally came into sight his heart dropped to his stomach. The Hall of the Vigilant was no more; smoldering bars and beams amidst isolated patches of fire were all what was left of the once proud bastion of righteousness.

Eyvindr's throat ran dry. His home, his friends - he had to do something, anything. He glanced around to make sure he was alone before approaching the smoking ruin. Debris was scattered all around. On the way up to the remnants of the hall lay the body of a woman, limbs outstretched. Her head was missing but her tattered robe left little room for doubt; it was Keeper Carcette - left as a warning for all the world to see. Bile and anger rose in Eyvindr's throat.

_May Stendarr have mercy for I have none to spare._

He swallowed and moved past Carcette, further towards the ruin. More bodies, some charred others torn, were scattered around the hall. Some still held onto their weapons; his brothers and sisters had not surrendered without a fight. The breaking of a twig ripped Eyvindr out of his thoughts. Panicked, he searched the shadows. He did not dare to breathe.

Nothing. No movement, no sound but the crackling of the dwindling fires. Eyvindr continued looking for clues as to who could have caused the attack when he stumbled upon the pale body of a young girl. Her dead, watery eyes stared up at him, the rest of her features were twisted in utter terror.

_Livia…?_

Eyvindr recognized her. The imperial had only been with the vigilants for a short time, but she was well liked and showed great promise and dedication.

She had only been sixteen.

Eyvindr's heart ached in his chest. He bent down and closed her eyes, whispering a prayer.

 _I have to burn them_ , he thought solemnly.

He took another cautionary look around before taking off his backpack and taking out a torch.

By now Nocturnal had cast her shadow over the land, cloaking the forest in primordial darkness. Only the remaining flames offered their dying light. He walked over to the nearest pyre to ignite the torch when-

"Aaargh," he screamed. Pain, hot and searing, shot through his body. He dropped the torch and spun around, smashing his mace into the chest of his attacker. Eyvindr froze.

_Stendarr preserve me!_

"Livia?" He stammered, staring into the bloodshot eyes of the risen dead. Something warm trickled down his back.

The fiend hesitated.

"Livia. It's me, Eyvindr. Remember?"

For a moment, the girl regarded him with a sorrowful expression. For a moment, Eyvindr had hope. For a moment...

The monster lunged at him with an ear piercing screech. Eyvindr's heart was thundering in his chest. Caught in a trance, he evaded and struck back, smashing her head in. Before it even hit the ground, the corpse dissolved into ashes, which vanished in the pristine white snow.

Eyvindr grit his teeth. The hot gash in his back was throbbing with pain. He needed something to treat the wound, lest he would share the poor girl's fate.

 _Potion,_ his mind was hazy _. Potion…_

He stumbled over to his backpack, drops of blood tainting the snow with every step. After a bit of searching, he found a phial of curative potion and chugged it down in one go, some of it running down his chin and into his beard. Not that he cared. He was shaking, his teeth were rattling. For the first time since he joined the vigilants over six months ago, Eyvindr was scared.

Although his knees felt like netch jelly, Eyvindr fought to get back on his feet. He still needed to burn the bodies and darkness was creeping up on him as the flames grew weaker.

Again, he picked up the torch and, at last, successfully ignited it.

One last time he gazed out into the shadows to make sure he was alone.

And from deep within the shadows, blazing orange eyes stared back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> The orignal entry actually contained a few more photos, but for layout purposes, I decided to only add the one at the end. It's a coloured pencil drawing on black cardboard with an added overlay to make the eyes pop a bit more.


End file.
